


Dress-Up

by thetrueenemyofhumanity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Absolute ridiculousness, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 12:58:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15886539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetrueenemyofhumanity/pseuds/thetrueenemyofhumanity
Summary: Request: Widowmaker walks in on her S/O trying on her suit.





	Dress-Up

Amélie had been gone for a few days. She spent more time away on missions than with you, much to your dismay. You should be used to it by now. You should be. But the familiarity did nothing to ease the loneliness. You missed her. That’s what drove you to riffling through her stuff. These reminders of her were nothing like holding the real thing. But it was all you’d have until she returned. 

Grabbing one of her suits you slid it from its hanger and rubbed the material through your fingers. It felt so stiff. How did she wear this thing? There was only one way to find out. 

Throwing off your own clothes, you were giddy as you slipped into the skintight suit. It took some tugging, a few attempts to get it the right way around and some odd shimmying to finally get it on. Once you flexed in the material so that it fit properly it turned out to be surprisingly comfortable, And even more flattering. As you admired the attire in the mirror you found that it hugged your body beautifully. 

You decided to embrace your inner Widowmaker. Striking a few poses in the mirror you tried your best French accent.

“ Une balle, un mort” you said, pointing an imaginary gun at your reflection.

“I do not sound like that!” came a voice behind you.

You jumped, letting out a small shriek and you spun to face Widowmaker, who was currently leaning the doorway with her rifle slung over her shoulder. You chewed your lip, trying to read her blank face. “A- Amélie!” you stammered, “You weren’t meant to be back until next week!” She simply shrugged in response, pushing herself off the doorway and striding over to you. 

She circled you, taking in the sight of you in her jumpsuit. She stopped behind you and your heart was pounding. You felt her breath against your ear. 

“Ouh là là,” she purred, wrapping her arms around you from behind. “What a lovely gift to come home to.”


End file.
